End Credits (Dead Hand Protocol)
These are the ending credits roll for Dead Hand Protocol. Cast (Sine Qua Non) Adamal Aerisettë Aldorae Alverdo Amarlytha Ândêr Areillena Azajia Azztook Barlenn Baztet Beredric Berenthol Butterchurn Cámillá Cellecia Cellìs Cheyannah Cithelle Cogglesworth Danienton Darkmourne Davalos Eaglefliight Fengshin Fizzbane Gaddes Gathearis Gerifreki Ghanan Gingert Graévus Hadrian Hblakemore Holypallyman Ianirah Ianros Jeremaias Jinnchan Jiroki Kallven Khassie Kitarinnie Kuurio Lenoráh Lionehart Lloria Magginar Mailiñg Mathias Meilann Mikellus Mkal Murcee Nistara Olivianatate Opalarie Parthilan Pasarir Peryn Phystalla Raaxi Renualt Rickshire Rookshire Ryann Sallic Serkanå Sháleé Speakerthai Tayluur Tianabia Tolath Townesend Turtleshell Tydark Tyrnathera Vahron Whoever Wraithvlad Xithade Zaari Mid-Credits Stinger At the end of every battle, the triumphant army rides away with glory on its heels… ...but someone has to clean up after. People always forget about those who clean up after. Bodies must be buried lest disease spread, the remains of the undead must be quieted, magical residue must be dispersed, and any remaining traps must be disarmed. Han Stormpaw leaned on his shovel and closed his eyes, letting the chill mountain air ripple his fur. He and his Shado-Pan brethren labored away at scraping together the bits and scraps of undead monsters on the Mogu-shan Terrace. Others scrubbed at the soot that was left by the cannons of that cursed airship, the Skylance. Tiles would need to be replaced, and the gilding on the columns was half-melted! Such things had never happened, before the parting of the Mists, but only a few short months had sufficed to change their whole world. The final defeat of the sha and the destruction of the mantid had relieved his order, the Shado-Pan, of most of their duties, and suddenly, there was so little else to do. Many had left, and scattered to the winds of the wider world. Xiu had a sudden, irresistible thirst to taste the rice wines of the elves. Cousin Li-Shan had gone back to his fishing boat and gone exploring the coasts of the Eastern Kingdoms. Even Han’s sister Yujie had desperately needed to see these things called “penguins”, and gone far to the north. He had heard from none of them, in a very long time. What could they find in those far-off lands that was any better than the things of Pandaria? What could they find to make them forget? Han sighed sadly, and shoveled another pile of gargoyle shreds into a bin. Not even the coming of the Legion to Pandaria had brought them back; in fact, it had scattered them further. Taoshi had joined the Uncrowned, and even Taran Zhu himself belonged to another order now. Very little was left… Very little was left of Han’s life. As he dragged his shovel across a particularly burnt patch, he heard the sound of metal on metal. Greenish metallic dust puffed up, forming a shimmering cloud. But despite the sharp cold wind, despite the small amount of it, despite the laws of physics themselves, it seemed to rise straight for Han’s face. Startled, he gasped--and the powder seemed to rush into his nostrils and mouth and throat, and he coughed and coughed but it went down into his lungs oh help it burned it burned… The universe exploded into gibbering terror and he knew no more. He became aware of others, bringing him water and patting his back, watching him with concern and love. Through watering eyes, he smiled at them, and overcame himself. These were his family, so lovely.. So few remained of them. And it was the fault of the foreigners. Meddling, troublous foreigners who brought nothing but sorrow, and took everything. Really, when he thought it through, they were all the same. Legion, Horde, Alliance, living and undead...All they did was show up and break things. Pandaria was better off without them. The first thing he must do was to bring back his sister. She had gone to that land--Northrend? Yes, Northrend--and not returned. He would follow. He would follow, and talk sense to her, and make her come back. He would make them all come back. Everything would be as it once was. And all he needed to do was go to Northrend… The Credits Continue DMs: Jeremaias Opalarie Event Designers: Butterchurn Jeremaias Opalarie Turtledog Winner and Still Photographer: Renualt Special thanks to the following guilds: Blacktide Brethren Gilnean Crusaders Grand Army of the Light Greyshields Knights of Ashfall Knights of Solidarity Melrony Crime Family Ordo Luminos Storm Glaive The Unbroken The Valorborne Wolves of Dawn Campaign Director: Jeremaias This campaign made use of the following resources and tools: * World of Warcraft * Google Docs * Adobe Photoshop * SignupGenius.com * RagingSwan.com * Discord * Elephant addon via Curse.com * TotalRP 3 addon via Curse.com End Credits Stinger “YOU!” She sprang, and seized him about his throat, her sharp fingernails scraping his skin. He pried at her fingers uselessly, but she lifted him effortlessly and slammed him against the alley wall. His body convulsed at the shock, and he struggled, but he could not raise a cry for help from passing guards. Maelydra leaned in, skinning her lips back from her sharp teeth in a snarl. “You didn’t think you could escape forever, did you? You didn’t think you could escape justice?!” the night elf hissed. Her victim’s feet kicked uselessly as she held him off the ground. “What...are you...talking about?” he managed around the strangling grip. “You lied to him--you lied to us!” Maelydra snarled. “I don’t remember--I don’t think--but maybe I did, maybe I did. Who are you, again?” What? Was this some kind of trick? Her grip slackened just a little as she tried to process this. “You don’t know the face of justice when you see it?” she tried again. “Miss,” he said, regaining his voice as the stranglehold loosened, “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” He had forgotten...How dare he forget?! Maelydra shoved him against the wall, harder. “I was there when you talked my beloved Beletene into joining your insane plan in Duskwood. You talked him into planting the Mother Tree. You convinced him to open the Emerald Dream! You cost the New Day our future, all our hard work, all our dreams...my love…” Her resolve diminished as she remembered the beauty of Beletene’s face and voice, and grief welled up anew. Oh, what she had lost when he died! “Oh, wait,” said her victim, struggling to find purchase with his dangling feet. “Oh, you mean the Dark Dreams business? Oh yes, oh yes, I remember. I’m so sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” Maelydra narrowed her eyes. “You lie,” she hissed. “You destroyed us all!” “No, no, you listen up, miss,” he protested. “Listen up. It was supposed to work. I was a hundred percent behind this plan. We just...underestimated the coalition. How could anyone guess that all those people, so different, could work together like that? They were just too smart, too smart. Honor among thieves and all that.” Maelydra shook her head, but he went on: “Beletene was such a good man, such a good man. I’m so sorry, believe me. I didn’t want it to happen like that, why would I? No, we clearly just didn’t anticipate that green dragon stepping in.” Doubt seeped all through her thoughts, her convictions, but she gave him a shake nonetheless. “Still, it’s all your fault.” “Yes, all right. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. And your loss was the worst of it all.” Wait, what? Why wasn’t he begging for mercy? This wasn’t going at all the way she’d envisioned. The shock of it loosened her grip entirely, and he fell to the cobblestones. He stood up quickly, dusting at his clothes. Great puffs of powder, much more than should have accumulated from the dust of the stones, rose from his robes as he straightened them. “I...I understand if you want to kill me,” he said now. “But then you’ll still be alone, and there are so many people responsible. You can’t get them all, by yourself, can you?” “I’ll get as many as I can,” she said dismissively, trying to wave the rising dust away from her face. It was sickeningly sweet, like sugar-cane syrup, and it was making her hungry. “But not all of them. Maybe you could get some of them, the green recruits, but as soon as you go after their commanders? You’re dead. I’m sorry to sound insulting, but you probably couldn’t even take that pretty paladin boy, Auromere, by yourself. Maelydra huffed, trying to sound indifferent. “I’ll find a way. It’s not really your concern…” She picked him up by the front of his robes again, and another cloud of sweet-smelling dust puffed out. “Because I can at least get you.” “What if I help you?” “You?” she snorted. “Yes, me. I’m at least partially responsible, we both agree. So let me help you find a way, and between the two of us...Between the two of us, your revenge will be multiplied tenfold!” “I--what? Why?” Maelydra asked. Her head was beginning to feel a little muddy. “Because Beletene’s plan was my plan, too. We both lost. But now we know more about these people. And do you know, do you know the best way to pay them back for depriving you of the one you love?” “Kill them all,” she grated. “No. Hurt them like they hurt you.” He smiled horribly now. “Hurt them, by destroying the ones they love. It’ll be like the cherry on the sundae of our victory.” Maelydra was stunned...but the more she considered this idea, the better she liked it. “How?” she asked finally. “Oh, there’s a way, there’s a way. And if you’ll forgive me long enough, I can help you…and perhaps, perhaps even help you put your dream of a cleansed, purified Azeroth back on track...” Our Heroes Will Return In SCORCHED EARTH POLICY Chapter Three of The ContrivanceCategory:Dead Hand Protocol